I beg your pardon, what did you just call me?

We ran into a lovely lady this morning who wanted to know our thoughts on children addressing adults by their first name.  So when our archivist got back from her coffee break we asked her to pull up one of our earliest pieces entitled The Name Game.  Reprinted below with permission.


The Name Game
First published November 17, 2009

It is the rare adult who truly appreciates being addressed as "Hey, Betty" by a five year-old; especially when he is her son. The well mannered modern mother knows that no matter how egalitarian or evolved she is in her own abode (or commune) when meeting new adults a polite child should address them as Mrs., Ms., Mr. or Doctor unless expressly asked by the adult to whom she is speaking to do otherwise. This tried and true convention should be seen not as means of repressing a brilliant and precocious child but as a way of making other adults feel comfortable and respected by your children. The well mannered modern mother realizes there are really not that many adults who consider people under 18 their social or intellectual equals. She will at times even reflect upon the interesting fact that even Karl Marx, father of Communism and defender of the proletariat, addressed the workers of the world as "Comrade Vladamir" not just "Vladamir".

The Maternal Arms Race

 Even the most well mannered and confident mother can get a bit wobbly at times.  No matter how put-together, the modern mother can occasionally have doubts.  Her children are well behaved,  good students and they participate in after school activities.  Yet there she stands, one sunny afternoon, blindsided by a group of mothers engaged in some sort of maternal arms race determined to out-do each other with the myriad of extracurricular, athletic, artistic and pseudo-academic pursuits in which their under-10 children are participating.  Couched as laments such as, "I don't know how I'm going to get my children to all their activities this weekend,"  or "I just wish the school could teach math at Avery's level, then I wouldn't have to be dragging her to Russian Math twice a week..."  these comments are intended to expose the brilliance of one's children and the many sacrifices of their fabulous and selfless mother.   By the time we encountered a friend after a recent episode, she was shell-shocked and, even worse, doubting her own excellent parenting philosophy.  Ridiculous.  We know.  She knows.  You know too, dear reader.  Yet, everyone has been there.  One wonders did those other mothers come away from the encounter feeling better about themselves?  Was such bravado comforting to anyone in that collective? 

We happened across a blog recently called breed 'em and weep.  It is written by a single mother in Western Massachusetts who is struggling.   She is struggling to find the meaning in her separation,  struggling to raise her children, struggling to keep her house and pay her bills.  This piece the road more taken, puts a lot of things in perspective.

Clean up, Pick up, Tidy up

As she picks up a small pair of socks lying innocently on the family room couch, or pauses to scoop up a pair of snow pants strewn across the floor, a modern mother sighs. Is she sighing because mid-to-late January is supposed to be the saddest time of year? Or, is she simply reflecting on how monotonous it can be: the packing of lunches, the shaking out of jackets and mittens and hats, the lining up of the boots on the boot tray, the unloading and reloading of the dishwasher, the constant clean up, pick up, tidy up.

Yes, the wise mother knows the day will come when her children pick up after themselves. But it can be hard to see how, exactly, that will ever come about.  There are, of course, a multitude of strategies she could use to get her children to tidy up more, to help them help themselves, to create independent and responsible children.  

The stereotypical well-heeled, well-educated suburban mother might pursue those strategies with the vehemence that the now notorious Tiger mother puts into piano practice.  But after early experience with baby books touting specific plans to achieve specific results (e.g., Baby Wise), this mother is wary of overly prescriptive advice and ambitious efforts to re-engineer her children’s behavior.

So she will have to be content to nudge her children along as best she can, attempt a select few strategies gleaned from those advice books, keep trying, and remain confident that these small individuals with a penchant for strewing stuffed animals, small toy parts and articles of clothing throughout their homes will likely grow into responsible, kind and trustworthy individuals. 

Besides, if a recent Wall Street Journal article is to be believed, any parental orchestration of the “home environment pales in comparison to the power of genes and peer group.” Guess it’s time to go start meddling in friendships or, at the very least, fretting over who might be a "bad influence." That should keep her busy until around June 17th, which is thankfully forecast to be the happiest day of the year.